Of Maids and Mud
by Rsjessen
Summary: Prompt answer: Merlin honestly didn't even know he did it, until Mordred's glaring blue eyes caught his.
1. 01

_I would like to point out that I don't hate Arthur. I just think he's a prat, and I might have taken it a bit further than canon. This story is an answer to a prompt I got on tumblr a while ago. Hopefully the prompt-tee will enjoy it!_

_(Also for people waiting patiently for me to update my other stories, I promise I will at some point. I'm simply in a rut with all of them. I honestly have no idea where I want them to go now.) _

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His face is dripping with sweat. It was running down his forehead, between his brow, down the bridge of his nose, and at last falling of the edge of the tip.

Merlin knows that Mordred works hard. Knows that he fights to keep up with the others, get to the level that the more experienced knights are at, and finally win their respect. On the nights they spend together, the young man sometimes speak of his future as a knight, his dreams to become the best protector Camelot had ever seen. On those nights their loving is tender and sweet.

That day Arthur was being extra horrible. Merlin reckoned that Arthur was _always_ horrible, most of all to Merlin, but this day was a particularly bad one. Gwen was ill and as it was usually the Queen's job to appease the King, the task had gone to Merlin instead. And gone rather unfulfilled It was usually Gwen's job to be the voice of reason that kept Arthur from chocking Merlin to death, or make his knights practice until they either couldn't walk off the field and had to be carried, or until one of them got badly enough injured, so even Arthur couldn't deny that it was time to stop.

Personally Merlin had been buried in work all day. He was currently polishing all of Arthur's armours, (honestly, Merlin had no idea why the King needed three armours that all looked the same?), while watching the knights practicing in the burning midday sun. Arthur himself, had gone for the moment, to check on his wife, leaving the knights to practice on their own.

Merlin was mainly watching Mordred, which he knew the younger warlock would tease him about later (Merlin had never been very good at hiding their relationship), who was currently fighting Sir Gwaine. Mordred was keeping surprisingly well up with the more experienced knight, holding his own more than well.

As it was, however, Sir Gwaine had many years of sword fighting on Mordred, and soon knocked him down with a move that Gwaine would later on admit, had been dirty.

Merlin watched as the older knight helped a laughing Mordred up from the ground, and both of them soon moving on to the sidelines to watch the other knights instead. It was quite clear that the older knight had quickly become taken with the newest addition to the Camelot protectors. Acting as a friendly, although often 'bullying' as well, guide for the younger man, Gwaine and Mordred's friendship had grown quickly. Something that Merlin was immensely grateful for.

Merlin's eyes trailed his lover as he moved across the training grounds with Gwaine, towards some maids that Gwaine had, no doubt, spotted and dragged the young man along with him to meet. Merlin watched as Mordred was his usual charming and kind self, speaking with a beautiful blonde girl his own age. Merlin felt a twinge in his stomach as he saw the girl throw her head back, laughing loudly at something that Mordred had said. Merlin had to bite his lip, in order to control himself, as she rested her slim hand on the druid's shoulder, caressing the patch of bare skin by Mordred's neck, as he let her do so.

Mordred looked to him, perhaps sensing a flare in Merlin's magic, the older warlock never really understood how the druid had become so attuned to him, sending him an apologetic smile, but quickly moving back to the girl, continuing to speak with the blonde, who fluttered her eyes at him so much that even Merlin could tell it from across the grounds. This time his stomach tied itself together in big, angry knots, as he watched his lover devote all of his attention to another.

"GWAINE! Mordred!" Both of the knights and Merlin jumped as Arthur's voice bellowed towards them, "What the hell are you standing there for? Get over here!"

All of the knights had gathered around Arthur, who was speaking to them. They were too far away for Merlin to hear what the King spoke of, he did, however, hear Arthur proclaiming that Sir Gwaine and his friend Sir Mordred had kindly volunteered themselves to show the other knights whatever Arthur had just told them.

Merlin couldn't help a small smile at that.

Mordred and Gwaine began their fight, both keeping well up with the other. Merlin could tell that Mordred gave it his uppermost now that he knew that the King was watching him, and that Gwaine did the same.

With a sigh, Merlin turned back to polishing Arthur's armour, only looking up once in a while to glance at how the fight was progressing. Mordred had the upper-hand.

Merlin didn't even know why he did it, to be honest. All he knew was that at a perfect moment for Mordred to win, Merlin's eyes flared and suddenly Mordred slipped in a pile of mud, falling down and dropping his sword. Leaving Gwaine the winner of the fight and Mordred covered in mud.

It took Mordred's glaring blue eyes at him and the other knights' laughter, for Merlin to realize that what happened was, in fact, his fault.

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**Chapter two will be up some time later. I've run out of writing time, so this will have to be a two-part.**

**Be warned. Smut in next chapter!**


	2. 02

_AN: This is the last part of the fic.. I think, I might get some more inspiration, perhaps having Merlin retaliate or something. That would be fun to write. But for now, this is it. So enjoy :D __**Btw, still looking for a BETA-reader.**_

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Being thrown against a wall, outside the Kings bedroom was not something that Merlin had planned on. He had kept a safe distance from the Druid all day. He succeeded in this so well, that he had honestly forgotten all about their spat, until his back connected with the cold stonewall.

Being dragged down the corridors by his scarf, wasn't something Merlin have seen coming either.

Mordred didn't speak. He simply pulled Merlin along in a fast pace, which had the latter half-running and stumbling behind him, earning both of them quite a few glances from servants who all hurriedly ducked out of the Knight's way, leaving poor Merlin to his fate.

Part of that fate was apparently him being shoved into Mordred's room, falling over and landing his bum, but even Merlin had seen that one coming.

Mordred was looking at him in silence, with his arms crossed over his chest and a sour look on his face. Merlin simply stared back, trying his best to ignore the part of him that had decided that Mordred scowling was an extremely attractive sight, that should be kissed and loved. He was certain that, for once, his lover wouldn't appreciate his kisses.

Finally, it seemed, Mordred broke his silence, throwing his hands in the air in frustration.

"Well?!"

Merlin stared.

"What the hell were you thinking, Merlin?"

Merlin pursed his lips, surprisingly offended that Mordred used his non-druid name, something the man never did unless he was talking to Merlin nearby another person. Mordred had to be very angry, to refuse using Emrys.

"I-" Merlin didn't get to finish what he wanted to say, which could be argued was an good thing, seeing as he would likely just his foot in his mouth instead of bettering the situation.

"You humiliated me!"

Whatever shred of hope Merlin had that Mordred didn't know that it was Merlin's magic, which had been directly involved in him falling over at practice, should have been gone long before now.

Should have, that is.

"I don't know what you are talking about, Mordred," he denied, getting up from the floor to stand up in front of Mordred.

Once again Merlin found himself shoved against a wall, just as forcibly as before. He was going to have to find a way to steal ointment from Gaius, for the bruises he was sure to be covered in by morning.

"You know what you did, Emrys."

At least Mordred was using his name again, that was a good start.

"Don't you dare pretend that it wasn't you who tripped me, I'd know your magic anywhere!"

Merlin was painfully aware of the way Mordred's body pressed against his, as if the Druid tried to melt their bodies together, making them one. That or he was trying to cause Merlin as much pain as possible. Possibly both.

Mordred's arm was braced against Merlin's chest, the former putting his weight into it, making it hard for Merlin to breathe. In a feeble attempt to get lose, the manservant pushed at the arm, trying to move it and relieve some of the pressure. Mordred didn't, however, move an inch. Instead he simply leaned in, his lips hovering over Merlin's.

"I've worked so hard, Emrys."

Mordred kissing him, Merlin had figured out. He knew that the Druid was mad, no doubt, but he also knew that Mordred would never hurt him, would never really be angry, would not be able to suppress his love long enough to actually be this close to Merlin without touching him in a more loving way.

The kiss was hard, filled with teeth and tongue. It hurt, but felt good. The aggression behind it, matched the feelings Merlin had felt earlier, watching Mordred giving his attention to the pretty, blonde, serving-girl. So Merlin kissed back just as hard, just as aggressively, trying to convey the anger he felt just as Mordred did.

The arm on his chest lifted, moving down so its hand gripped at Merlin's hips instead, fingers slipping under the loose shirt that the manservant wore.

It moved quickly, finding Merlin's nipples and giving them a hard twist, playing with them vigorously, making Merlin moan out Mordred's name in return.

He felt a smile against his lips, as the fingers left their task, instead moving down to loosen Merlin's trousers, Mordred shoving his hand into them, wrapping Merlin's cock into a tight grip that had the sorcerer throwing his head back, banging it against the wall with a shout of pleasure-pain and stars behind his eyelids. Hips snapped repeatedly against his thigh, as Mordred rutted to ease some of his own pressure. Merlin drank in the small moans that his love gave, as pleasure rose.

Mordred's hand worked quickly, moving up and down as his mouth was seemingly everywhere. Kissing, biting and sucking anything they would get near. More bruises Merlin would have to hide from Gaius.

Quickly, more quickly than he would like to admit, Merlin felt his stomach tightening; his nerves standing on ends, buzzing with pleasure as he neared his end. And then, suddenly, it stopped. Mordred loosened his grip and pulled his hand out of Merlin's trousers. Quickly whipping the precome on it off on Merlin' shirt, much to the other's irritation, he stepped back with a grin.

"Where do you think you are going?" Merlin's voice sounded more like a whine than he would care to admit.

In turn, Mordred simply shrugged, adjusting himself quickly, and left without a word, leaving a stunned and painfully hard Merlin in his wake.

Pulling his trousers into place, Merlin stumped out of the room, hoping to go finish the work somewhere private before Arthur or Gaius found him and forced him to do some ridicules task.

_By the gods, _Merlin thought, quickening his pace, _that's idiot is more of a prat than Arthur is. _


End file.
